Chapter One: Lost
What an awfully fickle thing time is. It may seem to pass slowly, as if a year has gone by, but in truth, no more than a few hours has passed. There I was, limbs spread out like some flying squirrel with stale, red blood pouring from a wound in my head. All I could think about was the pungent smell, making me dizzier by the second. Where was I, and how long had I been here? A couple minutes? A few hours? Maybe several days. I didn't think anyone would come for me, try to help me. Why would they?
I had no more allies. No friends I could trust. Those nasty goonies would be ever so thankful to get rid of me. I should've just died. I should've given up, choked on my own vomit. It wouldn't have been hard. When you're near death anyway, it's not hard to make yourself die faster. That smell was driving me insane and I wanted to do anything to get away from that place. It was hot and sticky, yet wet and cold. Maybe a dementor or fifty were standing in the corner, since no happy thoughts could flow through my mind.
I couldn't think of all the things I had going for me. Before all this. I couldn't go back, now. To face all the people I'd sacrificed. To see all the glares, and evil eyes that would burn holes through me. I couldn't go back. I wasn't going back. But as far as I knew, I was dead. So it really didn't matter where I went. Yet, unwillingly, a voice broke through the tight barrier in my mind and screamed, "Get up! You've got to live, and you want to live!" No I didn't. The voice was lying. Why would I want to live? "Use you're arms! Stop the blood, do something!" No, I didn't want to do any of that. Just let me Die in Peace before I 'Rest in Peace'.
"Get up!" No. "GET UP!" Why should I? "Because you have a chance at greatness! You can always start anew, change your name, and get a new beginning. Run away. If you don't, you will die!" Maybe I wanted to die. "You don't want to die! I am you jackass, and I know better than you what you want!" Why are you cussing at me now? "You're being ignorant." I'd sighed, then I coughed; it hurt to breath. I bent my arm and tried to push up on it. I cried out in pain; fractured wrist. What now, annoying voice? I tried and I had failed. I use to never fail. "Try again." I pushed up on the other arm, no pain. The only problem was that I was unbalanced and ended up falling on my back. Smooth.
I took this as a chance to observe my new surroundings. I pushed the bloodstained hair from my face and looked around. A warehouse. Maybe a vault. There were rusty bars along the ceiling and some kind of foam was above it. To drown out the sound. It made me laugh to think this could be the basement of some muggle building. Laughing was a bad idea; I started coughing and blood came out this time. That stopped me laughing quickly. Why was I trying to live, again? I would die anyway. But that damned voice went on screaming at me again and so I tried sitting up. It took me maybe an hour, but finally I sat up. I could see more of the room now. I saw a door. Why did it have to be so far away? Why did I have to be so weak in this place I'd never been? I rested my arms on my knees and hung my head between them. I coughed again and watched the blood drip out of my mouth and onto the cold, concrete floor. "You need to get out." The voice rang, a little nicer this time. Maybe it was because I was trying. So if I gave up, it would yell again? I wanted to say something out loud, to see what my voice sounded like. I needed to hear a sound, any sound besides cries of pain.
It took me a long time to stand up. Maybe another hour or so. I was half bent over like a hunchback, my head started throbbing and I couldn't hear anything except the thumping sound in my ears. What was pleasure? I had forgotten. I had had lots of pleasure once. There was something that contributed to that pleasure, I couldn't think of the name. Oh yeah, girls. A long time ago, before all this, I guess you could say I was a big shot. I had all the girls I wanted. I'd had so much sex, the knobs and dents in my headboard were beyond magical repair. It's funny how different I am now. I'd never toss around women like that, now. I'm not so much into one night stands anymore. I like long-term relationships. I never thought I'd be much into love and things. Really, if you'd known me then, you'd think the same, too.
I started walking towards the door. I could barely see my vision was blurred so terribly, I was convinced I was half blind. I squinted, and walked, one foot after the other. Limping, really. Suddenly, I couldn't breath. It felt like a snake was constricting the air from my lungs. Squeezing, squeezing, squeezing… I gasped; my last attempt at getting a breath before I collapsed onto the floor. Had I been shot? I wouldn't have heard it since my ears were still pounding. But I don't think a muggle could have done that to me. And no wizard would use a gun.
I closed my eyes, preparing to die. Ready to visit my father in hell, though I wanted so much to see my mother in heaven. I was slowly drifting out of consciousness, and was only a minute away from being out cold, when I heard something. "It's him! We've found him!" They'd found me. "Get him on the stretcher; we need to get him out of here!" They were going to help me? I felt myself being levitated onto a stretcher. Someone with soft, cool hands pulled a nice blanket over me. The same voice I'd heard yelling earlier was now softer, quieter. It was a woman. "It's going to be alright, Draco. You're going to be just fine." So that was my name. I felt a hand on my cheek and then the girl gasped, having seen my head wound. Her hand was replaced with her lips as she kissed my cheek. "It's me, Hermione." Her name is familiar. Can she be trusted? I heard her stand up and walk away. "Let's get him out of here!" But were they too late?
Questions to think about until next time: Will he be okay? Why did Hermione kiss him? Where was he, exactly? Who were the group of people that saved him? Who did that to him? What all is wrong with Draco? And where is he going to go now?
Please review if you'd like. Criticism and all that is welcome, though no flamers please, thank you. A/N: In case you didn't notice, it's in Draco's point of view. It might be in a couple other people's point of view, occasionally, but mostly Draco. I think. I'd like to ask how long it took most of you to figure out who was narrating it. Like, if you thought it was Harry or something. Much love. 33